Domestic Bliss

by Piper Rayne

  “My only concern with sci-fi is that there’s so much on the market right now,” Trina argues, pushing up the rim of her glasses.

  “Name some,” I say. “Movies or television.”

  “Resident Evil, Star Wars, not to mention all the Justice League and superhero crap the studios keep putting out.”

  Greg sits down, the screen behind him turning off. “That’s fantasy, not sci-fi.”

  “I agree with Trina.” Hank wipes his hands down his pants.

  I’m pretty sure my dad hand-picked Greg, Hank and Trina because he thinks since they all wear glasses, they’re nerds. Don’t get me wrong, they know their shit, especially where books are concerned.

  I hated reading until Quinn showed up next door when I was fourteen. One day I was waiting for her to get back from a walk on the beach and I picked up the book she’d been reading. Some story about three airplane crashes that happened in the nineteen fifties. We ended up reading it together. From the number of books in her bookcase, I’d say she reads about ten books to my one nowadays. She’s still my Belle.

  “I agree with Greg.” I pick up the book. “I like the nineteen eighties feel to the cover. Real Stranger Things vibe.”

  Trina rolls her eyes behind her purple-framed glasses.

  “You disagree, Trina?”

  She sits up straighter. “Mr. Kale—”

  “Jagger.”

  Her body does this small shake thing. “Jagger.” Her eyes make direct contact with me. “I think we should venture into young adult.”

  “Vampires and werewolves have been done to death,” Hank says, his hand in a bag of chips. I’m thinking a requirement to eat lunch before our meetings might be in order.

  “That’s the truth. Next you’ll be saying erotica,” Greg adds with a laugh. “Maybe we can find the next Fifty Shades.”

  I hold my hand up in the air. “Young adult has its place.” I won’t tell them because I don’t tell anyone, but that was the first genre that sparked my interest in reading. A little secret only Quinn and I share.

  “YA movies have already had their heyday. Unless you have some Brat Pack series, it’ll go nowhere fast.”

  “Oh, and your aliens come to earth is really original? Ever hear of War of the Worlds, X-Files, Superman…need I go on?” Trina’s got some fight and I can’t help but think whoever nails her down might reveal a kinky sex freak.

  “Okay, we’re getting off track. Trina, you’ll have your chance to present. Let’s focus on Greg’s ideas today.”

  My phone vibrates in my pocket and I shift my weight to pull it out while the three of them continue their debate.

  Quinn: I’m here. Waiting in the lobby.

  Me: I put your name on the list with the guard. Floor sixteen. I’ll have Victoria meet you.

  * * *

  I type out a new message for Victoria.

  * * *

  Me: Go wait by the elevators for Quinn.

  Victoria: Sure thing, I’ll just leave my lunch and go do that right now.

  Me: Thanks.

  Victoria: I prefer my soup cold anyway.

  Me: You’re an odd duck.

  * * *

  I smile, knowing her nostrils are flaring right now.

  * * *

  Me: I’m leaving after this meeting, so feel free to take another lunch.

  Victoria: Your dad might hunt you down. He’s in the office today.

  I let that one go, watching the glass wall of the conference room for Quinn to walk by. Today is our fourth and hopefully not final date. I worried that she was going to drop me after she kept up her end of our deal, but after the way her body writhed underneath me on the beach, I feel confident I’m about to hit it out of the park tonight.

  “Okay, everyone should read the book this week. We’ll talk next week about more specifics.”

  Trina huffs, and pushed up her glasses. Hank crumples up his chip bag.

  “Trina, you’re up next and then Hank.”

  They all nod, collecting their things and leaving.

  I slide my chair out right as Victoria and Quinn walk by, Victoria slyly flipping me off on the side of her face as she passes by the glass. With the mirrored glass, Quinn doesn’t know that I can see her, but she’s smiling, her hair pulled into a braid on the side of her head. I smile when I notice that she’s wearing a sundress. Yeah, if I could make bets on when a woman is primed and ready for me, I’d be richer than I already am.

  “Who’s that?” Hank asks, straightening out his glasses.

  I pat him on the shoulder. “That one would be mine.”

  I head out of the conference room and hear Greg mumbling, “Of course she’s his.”

  Following the duo back to my office, I get stopped a few times to give my opinion or sign something. I mindlessly respond because my body and mind are ready to escape out of here with the gorgeous brunette who’s probably getting an earful from Victoria right now.

  By the time I reach my office, the two of them are sitting on opposite sides of my couch, laughing—most likely at my expense.

  I walk in casual and confident like I haven’t been counting the minutes until Quinn is in front of me. Her gaze falls over me, a sheepish smile on her lips. We both play the hard-to-get role to a fucking tee.

  “Don’t believe what she says,” I singsong as I round my desk to close my computer.

  “I feel underdressed,” Quinn says, taking in my designer suit.

  “I think you’re too covered.” I wink and Victoria huffs, standing from the couch.

  “On that note, I’m out.”

  “Don’t you have some cold soup to warm up?” I ask her.

  She doesn’t spare me a glance. “It was nice seeing you again, Quinn.”

  “Thanks for the escort. Next time I’ll manage on my own.”

  Victoria glances my way and then back to Quinn. “I’m not sure it will matter. He’s afraid that if you get a chance to wander you’ll find out he’s not the biggest catch around here.”

  “Bye, Victoria.”

  She waves her hand in the air, wiggling her fingers with an innocent expression on her face. “See you two later.”

  The door shuts behind her and if it wasn’t for my glass doors, I’d be hopping over my desk to pin Quinn to my leather couch. She must have similar thoughts because she stands up and saunters over to my desk.

  “Not a lot of privacy in here.” She sits on the chair across from me, her succulent legs crossing, her flimsy sundress rising high up on her thigh.

  My dick swells, my eyes unwavering.

  “I mean office sex is a thing, right?” she asks coyly.

  “Not in this office.” I tap on the keys of my computer as I work to shut all the programs down. “Things around here are professional.”

  She stands, her finger running along the edge of my desk as she nears me with each step. My gaze stays on her until she’s resting her ass against my desk to the side of me and she leans down.

  “There’s something about stripping a man of his suit in his office. It’s like unleashing the lion, right in his own lair.” Her voice is breathy as she whispers into my ear.

  My fingers stop and hover over my keyboard. “You’re playing with danger.” I glance at her out of the corner of my eye.

  “Sometimes I like danger.”

  Her breast pushes against my shoulder and I swallow deeply, my eyes veering out behind her to my office window. Why didn’t I take the corner office that’s more hidden?

  I finish what I have to on my computer, shutting my laptop and sliding my chair back. I pull her into my lap. She yelps, and I swallow down her surprise with my mouth.

  Her hand finds its usual spot on the back of my head while my tongue mingles with hers as who knows who witnesses us. When I break the kiss, she’s breathless and smiling from ear to ear. I love that pinkish tint to her cheeks and her swollen lips. What I should say is that I love knowing that I did that to her.

  “I think I’m halfway there.”
She wiggles in my lap, fully accomplishing her goal. I’m harder than the steel and glass desk in front of us.

  “Payback is a bitch,” I murmur, tapping her ass to get up.

  She does and when I stand, she sits in my chair.

  “Your chair is a monstrosity.” She spins in it like Payne does.

  “Yeah, it’s a big chair.” I grab the bag with my change of clothes and head to the bathroom.

  She laughs, spinning again, and then stops, pretending she’s typing on a keyboard. “Come in. I’m Jagger Kale and I bought this big-ass chair because it’s a reflection of my dick size.” Her voice is low and sounds nothing like me.

  “Funny. You know my dick is bigger than that.” I raise my eyebrows and close the bathroom door.

  “Where are you taking me?” she asks through the door. “I’m starving.”

  “Well, we’re going somewhere we’ve been before, but I’ve made sure it will be a much better experience this time around.”

  “You didn’t.” The annoyed tone in her voice says that it will take a lot of convincing to get her to go to Surfing Tacos.

  I open the door, hanging my suit on a hanger behind the door and buttoning up my jeans. “You don’t miss it?”

  Her eyes lose all excitement as she stares blankly at me. “Takeout?”

  Starting to pack my stuff up, I don’t look up at her. “You know it’s never as good.”

  She props her feet on my desk, her cute pink toenails visible through the strappy sandals.

  My hand leaves my computer, sliding up her leg. “You better get out of here before I fuck you in front of my co-workers.”

  Her eyes come back to life, as does the pink tint in her cheeks. She likes the idea.

  “You’re turned on by that concept?” I stop and stand next to her leaning on the edge of my desk. “I bet you’d like nothing more than for me to fall to my knees right now and taste you. Swipe my tongue up your center until I’m sucking on your clit.” My palm glides up and down her bare calf. “What kind of panties are you wearing? I bet they’re soaked.”

  She shuts her legs and tries to move them to the floor. “Nope. You’re wrong.” She hops up off the chair, biting her lip.

  “I don’t think I am.”

  She glances over her shoulder as she walks away. “Bring me back after hours and we can play boss and secretary.” The kinky side of Quinn comes out and damn, just like that my dick is in desperate need of relief.

  “Let’s get you fed so I can…” I run a hand through my hair. “Fuck. Let’s just go.”

  I catch up and place my hand on her lower back, my computer bag hanging off my shoulder. We need to get out of this office before I turn that fantasy into a reality and we both regret it.

  15

  Quinn

  With full bellies and an armful of books, we walk into Jagger’s house. After lunch I forced Jagger to swing by the library, so I could check out the latest titles. Before I knew it, hours had passed, but he was a trooper. Never complaining once while I chatted with the librarian about some of her recommendations.

  I place my purse and bookbag near the front door once we enter. We’re at his beach house this time, but he couldn’t be further away from his family. He could be on the Atlantic instead of the Pacific. God knows I would be if I had Monica Kale as my mother.

  “Outside or inside?” Jagger asks, sorting through his mail, putting his keys on a table by the door.

  “Outside,” I answer, having kept away from the ocean for most of my adult life. The past always haunted me whenever I’d go near.

  “I’ll be right out. White or red?” He glances up, still sorting through his mail. Who in this day in age gets so many envelopes?

  “Red, please.” I head out the screen door, right to a long rectangular pool. Lounge chairs have towels tucked in the bend as though guests will be coming down to take a late-night swim.

  The moon is high tonight, casting a glowing white image on the dark water below. The waves are trickling in slowly, the water barely moving up the sand. Other than a few lights on decks, there isn’t much lighting on the desolate beach.

  The sliding doors open behind me and the clink of glasses rings through the night air.

  I circle around, my back to the ocean. “I can’t get over how beautiful your place is, Jagger.”

  He nods. There’s no argument to be had. He lives in paradise. “It’s home.”

  “How long have you lived here?”

  He hands me the wine glass and then pours us both a drink until they’re half full. My eyes fix on his, waiting for him to answer.

  “About five years. I used to live closer to the clubs and the city. I wanted to get away.”

  I nod. That was the thing with Jagger—he liked his alone time as much as he liked his party time. “To be alone?”

  “Yeah.” His head snaps up. “I mean, you know.”

  I do, but it always made me wonder if Jagger could settle down. Not have a place of his own, or a weekend by himself to veg with movies and food. Back when I’d be daydreaming about what he might be doing with his life it wasn’t my problem. But now…

  “Is that the reason you’ve yet to settle down with anyone?”

  He glances away from the ocean, giving me a quizzical look. “Are we psychoanalyzing me tonight?”

  I laugh, stepping closer to him. “No, I just wonder why you don’t have anyone. I mean you meet beautiful women every day. Successful women with careers of their own. Ones who would give you the space you need.”

  “The space I need?” He turns from facing the ocean, skepticism written all over his face.

  “You know how you like your alone time.”

  “Do I?” The smirk on his lips confirms it’s a fact.

  “I vaguely remember you disappearing for a night or even a weekend on occasion.”

  He places his wine down on a table by the lounge chair, digs his hand in his pocket and pulls out a black remote. He presses a button and soft music sounds around us.

  “Do you have speakers hidden in the bushes?”

  He entwines our hands, leading me over to the open area by the pool, and I welcome the comfort of his arms.

  I step into his space, his one hand in mine and the other on the small of my back. The lights in the pool change from white to red to pink, leaving a soft glow on the deck. I relax into him and let the music set the mood.

  “Do you prefer to be alone?” he whispers, and I step back, staring up at him. I’m so short compared to him when I’m not in heels.

  “I’m alone most of the time, so I tend to be the opposite of you.”

  He shakes his head. “Why are you alone?”

  “For my job. Not a lot of people would enjoy sitting around watching me type.”

  He gives me an amused smile. The one that tells me he likes my quirky self.

  “I meant why, after you hole yourself up in a room, isn’t there a guy at your place making you dinner?” He spins me fast and I’m so enamored with his dance skills, I forget the question he asked me for a moment.

  He waits silently, the soft hum of the music floating from his lips to my ear.

  “I never found the right guy, I guess.”

  “Never?” he asks, his eyebrows raised. “You do know this is our fourth date?”

  I widen my eyes. “It is?” I say with mock surprise.

  He rolls his eyes. “Let’s dig deeper into the ‘never’ comment.”

  He spins me again, dipping me to place a gentle kiss on my lips. His strong hands pull me back up and we start to dance slowly along the makeshift dance area around his concrete pool. No one can say Jagger isn’t romantic, though I can’t help but wonder how many women he’s done things like this for.

  “Jagger, what’s happening here?” I ask softly.

  The smile leaves his face for a second before the cocky grin reappears once more. “What do you want to happen?”

  Of course, he throws it back in my lap. “If I had my way, we’d
be dancing on our anniversary right now.”

  The grin leaves his face, he steps into my body and both arms wrap around me.

  Shit, I should have kept up the tough act. Not laid it all out for him to stomp all over.

  “I wish the same,” he says softly in my ear, the sweetness of his voice flowing through my body like I just binged on birthday cake frosting. He takes a step back and the chill of the night air seeps into the small space between us. “I messed up and I know you have assumptions about the man I am, but you’re a game-changer, Quinn.”

  Tears prick my eyes. How long have I yearned to hear him say something like this? Fourteen years, if I’m honest. Secretly wishing he’d seek me out, find me on social media. Show up one day and carry me off like that movie An Officer and a Gentleman. Except he’s not in the military and I don’t work in a factory, so really if he carried me off there wouldn’t be anyone to clap and wish us well as we rode off on his motorcycle. Oh, never mind, you get the gist.

  “How can you be sure?” I wish my voice wasn’t quivering.

  “You didn’t just pop back up and take that spot in my heart. You implanted yourself there a long time ago. I’ve made a crapload of bad decisions, beginning with letting you go, but this time if you won’t have me, nobody will.”

  “So, you’ll be celibate, huh?” My eyebrow quirks up.

  He chuckles. “Yes.”

  “Hmm…that might be pushing that sappy declaration too far.”

  His hands come to rest on either side of my face. “Then let me prove it to you.”

  I take a deep breath and a leap of faith and nod. “Okay.”

  And with no more words, he brings me in and holds me in his arms, silent promises that tomorrows will be coming our way. I lay my head on his shoulder and we sway to the music under the moonlight. How much more cliché can we get? But I don’t care. I love it.